In the face of rising prices
In a city where the civilized custom of a “gas price war” is unknown, the complacent consumer has little option. If the tank is empty, you pay. If the tank is half-empty, you pay. And if someone hints that the price is about to rise, you get out, fill to the last gurgle, and pay.
Someone on FB mentioned that the tank price was on its way up, this afternoon. Nothing outrageous: 14 cents per litre. I decided to head out for milk, and detour via the pumps on the corner. The price of $1.14 plus 9 seemed to be within the range I’d noticed over the last few days, but I tanked anyhow. And this evening, the rising price has only affected those living west of the Laurentian. I have no idea why, but the forecast increase is in place for those closer to the sunset line.
The realization that our living room armchairs are “done” has already caused us to commit to change. Tonight, off to our favourite box store, where we placed a firm order for newer furniture. Much to the joy of the sales clerk, I might add. Commission sales drive otherwise meek individuals to reach out and adopt potential clients. We were never alone, from the time we breached the entry until the final handshake in front of the cashier. Delivery had to be discussed, on the odd chance that a truck might actually go east (unknown territory, if I trust the four clerks who held counsel on the subject). In the end, we agreed to have local delivery; before the departure of a loaded moving van. A few more pieces in an overcrowded living room will go unnoticed.
